Chapter 959 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 959: The Night of the Bayonet! At the end of the day, one person's strength can only go so far. Especially when the opponent is deceitful and willing to use any means necessary. "Bang—!" Just as Lasi was about to scatter the gang members like startled birds, Udi remembered the command "Kill them all" and reluctantly raised his gun. These were special bullets. Even if Lasi had worn a bulletproof vest, which he hadn’t when he left for the airport, the outcome would have been the same. Shot in the chest, Lasi staggered, using his military knife to support himself on the cobblestones of the alleyway, dropping to one knee. The wolves and leopards watching, sharpened by blood, saw an opening. They picked up their weapons, ready to rush in, but a single glare from him made them hesitate and step back in cowardice. Lasi grinned a menacing smile, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth, dripping to the ground. "You finally fired…" Under those eyes, Udi felt a chill from head to toe, as if the bloody hole would appear on his body at any moment. But Lasi, after all, was just a human. At most, an awakened one, incapable of magic. Lasi looked at him, breathing lightly. "I just remembered, was it Shava or your superior Ackman who told me you were an orphan he picked up from a village by the Tasan River…" Udi watched him coldly. "Are you still curious why I betrayed you?" Lasi chuckled softly. "Did I ever ask you that question?" Which child in the strike team wasn't an orphan like him? Which one wasn't made an orphan because of war? If you want to talk about hate, there's always a reason to hate him; Alain was already fighting wars back then. He always treated them like his children, and indeed, never guarded against them much. Whether it was Ackman, whom he had disciplined in the Mazhou mountains, or the most loyal Shava, they were both his subordinates and his family… or rather, his children. Udi hesitated for a moment, frowning. Seeing him silent, Lasi slowly sat down, using the remaining time to continue. "I do owe them a life. I intended to go down and apologize, but didn't expect your parents to urge me so soon…" He leaned his head against the wall of the alley, sighing lightly. "If you gave me another ten years, even five, I would have given you an explanation of what happened that day, why it happened, and what came after… Believe it or not, the dam itself shows that I wanted to atone while alive. The one who comes after me may not be as forgiving." Udi's eyes reddened, his hand holding the gun trembling, momentarily forgetting his mission as he screamed hysterically. "Damn it! Stop pretending to be a hero! How many people have you killed! Can this be resolved with an explanation? And what’s the point of saying these things now… Can the dead come back to life?" "No, they can't, and the living have no choice but to keep moving forward!" Lasi shook his head, coughed once, then suddenly laughed freely. "You have parents; I used to have them too, but the Empire killed them. Initially, I believed it was survival of the fittest, the law of the jungle until a man named Niyan awakened me with a shout." "He said… if the Empire, feudalism, and the thousand pillars suppressing the people of Boro are not eradicated, one generation after another will continue to die for it." "You have parents, and you should indeed avenge them. I'm giving you my life now, but will you finish what I couldn't? Do you have the courage?" "…" Udi couldn't answer and didn't want to listen anymore. He felt his purpose wavering. He even thought, maybe when he goes down there, his parents wouldn't praise him… might even think he died for nothing. Wasn't it all in vain? Everything seemed to reset, back to the day before the great flood hit. But there's no turning back now. He couldn't imagine the future; he could only keep marching forward, head-on. Just as he was about to shoot, two blinding lights exploded at both ends of the alley, turning the dark passage into daylight! Flashbangs! It was the strike team! "Bang!!" Blindsided, Udi instinctively fired, emptying his magazine with his finger on the trigger! Yet due to his inner conflict and the exhaustion of holding the gun for so long, all six bullets merely hit the wall a hand's breadth away from Lasi, even injuring a teammate by mistake. The gang members trapped in the alley panicked. They were merely bullies and thugs, used to picking on students and ordinary people, never facing an elite force before! Panic spread like wildfire; they dropped their weapons before the fight even started, reverting from wolves to mice, already plotting how to beg for mercy once captured. Udi knew he couldn't rely on these petty criminals around him. To complete his superior's mission, he could only rely on himself! Using the tactics taught by his officer, he steadied his mind and retreated while rapidly changing his magazine. But before he could chamber a round, a rifle butt swung by a roaring Ackman nearly dislocated his jaw. "Aaaah!" Ackman roared in anger, pinning his nearly same-aged soldier to the ground. He used to be part of the Moon Tribe resistance; long ago, he had followed Lasi north. He still remembered, back in Mazhou, when the Empire's noble soldiers corralled them like pigs in the mountains, using them as practice for fighting bandits! The elders of the Moon Tribe preached overthrowing the Empire, but with pockets filled from overseas labors, their battles became increasingly pathetic, forcing them all to forage wild roots with red earth to survive! Lasi was the one who led them to regain their backbone! Even today, he recalls Lasi slapping their battle-inept captain into the ground, leaving him speechless! He was their leader… How dare this guy! Ackman's eyes were bloodshot, holding his gunstock, wishing to smash Udi's insolent face into mince for dogs! But he was his soldier, and after a furious roar, he ultimately tossed away the gun and swung his fists. "I'll kill you!!!" "You bastard! You killed our families! You doomed us all!" With every shout, he punched, turning Udi’s face black and blue, swelling it into a pig’s head. Udi drifted in and out of consciousness until a voice said "Enough." With fists still raised, Ackman was pulled aside by two strike team soldiers. Only then did Udi realize the one pummeling him was the same person who had once handed him the LD-47 rifle… Back then, he had been picked up by Ackman by the riverbank, who told him he would be a soldier now. After everything that had happened, he nearly forgot what Ackman had once said. But there was indeed a time when he, having no one to rely on, saw him as an older brother… Besides Udi, the traitor, thirty gang members were also pinned to the ground. With red eyes, Shava helped Lasi stand up, trying to lead him away from the alley. Yet Lasi shook his head once risen, reaching into his pocket with a trembling hand to pull out a blood-stained notebook, placing it in Shava's hands. "My time is up… everything I want to say to you is in here. Take your time to read it." "As for my affairs, no grand ceremonies are needed. Just lay my remains by the downstream banks of the Tasan River… Should another flood come, let it wash over me first before others." "This life is borrowed, and it's time to repay… Alain must be restless, I hear him shouting, waiting for our three-hundred-round bout… cough… Seems it's me who should join him." "Oh, one more thing, return my pistol to Mr. Fang Chang and thank him for all he's done for those who live on this land." "This gratitude, I will repay in my next life." Shava said nothing, supporting him, tears in his eyes as he listened, then nodded tearfully. Pressing his hand upon the bloodstained notebook, he choked out. "I promise you…" "I’ll damn well lay down my life if I have to… but I will finish what you couldn't!" By the end, his voice had risen to a shout. A look of relief spread across Lasi's face as he reached out to brush aside the young man's bangs. He had no children, no parents, yet he found so many people to whom he could entrust his legacy. "With your words, I am at peace…" "The Mammoth Nation… is in your hands now." Managing to hold on until now had been his very limit; there was no time to reach a hospital. Those bullets likely had something "foolproof" added to them. After leaving his final words, Lasi peacefully closed his eyes, dying as he wished—standing upright. Shava stood in place with Lasi's body for a long time, then lifted his gaze to the cool, water-like night sky. He recalled the profound advice given to him by the old gentleman back at the Great Rift. Every citizen of the League was Chu Guang; every Boro person was Lowell— If this phrase were a riddle, it might have another solution. Want to change the times? You'll have to kill until there's a change of kind! The hot blood flowing down his chest gradually cooled, and Shava's gaze grew increasingly cold, finally settling on the thirty bowing mice beneath him. Not only was he watching; nearly a hundred strike team soldiers glared with murderous intent, some with red eyes already flicking the safety off their triggers. These hooligans, who had normally been boastful and arrogant, were trembling, regardless of their former bravado or seedy appearance, now all crouched like mice, starkly different from their previous viciousness shouts for blood. Perhaps they were truly afraid, maybe genuinely remorseful, or possibly, just waiting for the moment to slither away once the hands around their throats loosened. But none of that mattered now. A cruel smile tugged at Shava's lips as he spoke in a clear, icy voice. "I asked the heavens just now, if these clouds cover the moon, then I would be wrong. But it didn't happen." The long moon hung high in the sky. The sky was cloudless. His cryptic words couldn’t hide the murderous intent! He was ready to remove the restraints that Lasi hadn’t the heart to. His "father" was gone, after all. To him, nothing mattered anymore. The little mice on the ground were panicking, desperately kowtowing in remorse. "M-Master, we were wrong!" "It was the family association! The family association fooled us!" "We had no choice… if we didn’t act, they said there’d be no good days for us!" "We beg you, please spare us!" The whimpering cries did not soften the soldiers' hearts; instead, they filled them with disgust. They had fought tooth and nail on the frontline, all to protect such spineless creatures! True loyalty perhaps died long ago on the battlefield. What remained were just these pathetic remnants! Unmoved, Shava handed Lasi's body to a nearby tearful soldier and picked up the military knife from the ground. "It's the will of the heavens, so don't blame me; it spoke to me directly—" "Kill!" Tonight, it was not Lowell who descended, but the even more ferocious Great Moon King! When it came to reaping heads, none could match him, not even the founding emperor of Xilan. After all, one swept through thirteen states, while the other merely took advantage of the chaos. As soon as these words fell, heads began to roll, scaring the mice so much they lost control of their bowels while flailing in an attempt to flee. But the soldiers gripping them had no intention of letting them escape, thrusting bayonets and slashing fiercely. In mere moments, the alley was awash with blood, leaving only Udi, the ringleader, alive. Facing Shava, who stood before him, the bruised and battered Udi breathed shallowly, eyes fixated on him. "The officer said to spare your life, so your life is spared. I promised to honor every task he entrusted." Without waiting for the boy's response, Shava pulled him up from the ground, slapped his swollen face, and shoved him onto the pile of corpses. "Get out of here!" "Go find your ‘family’." Udi stumbled and fell into the heap of mangled flesh, staring in horror at the departing figures from the alley. He gasped for air, struggling to his feet, hoping to warn the remaining family association members, but the chaotic sound of gunfire outside hit his ears. His heart sank with a thud, suddenly understanding the meaning of "kill." He recalled his superior's words when given the mission: to overcome a formidable foe, one must transcend their limits, which had always been their invincible weapon. However, his superior never explained what to do when an enemy, eyes red with fervor, also abandoned their limits, treating them like pests to exterminate. He had no idea what lay beyond this night; perhaps this night would never end… … At midnight, a thunderclap streaked across the sky, and the previously clear night was overwhelmed by sudden clouds, pouring down a torrential rain. Unable to sleep, Zaid rose from his bed, walked to the window, and lit a Rick-5 cigarette. He felt as though someone was watching him from afar, yet he couldn't place where the gaze originated. "This Snake State is fine in every way, except it's too hot by the equator." He muttered to himself, turned on the room's light, but the space under the bed remained dark, making him glance involuntarily. Eventually, he decided to go take a peek. Indeed, no one was there. Even if there were something with optical camouflage, it shouldn't be able to bypass his numerous sentries and lie beneath his bed. Realizing this, Zaid felt a sudden demotivation; after spending an entire year planning for today, much of it had been unnecessary. Winning too quickly made him uneasy; he had yet to exert his full strength, and his opponent had already collapsed. What he hadn't anticipated was that even before the League reached Bartoya Province, Gopal appeared ready to bring down the sky. This wasn't necessarily good. Eventually, someone would compare him to Lasi, the tyrant Absec, and he finally secured Eastern Empire's investment—how else could he cement his reputation without a proper battle? Fabricating tales was possible, but comparisons would inevitably expose inconsistencies. "…Perhaps Lasi might surprise me. He's obstinate and must be distrustful, constantly guarding against those around him. Sava's plan to use Udi as a covert line is likely a blunder." But it didn’t matter anymore. If Lasi were alive, better yet, send Yokale leading Northern Field Army of Isher to fill the big pit in Tasan River, letting them battle old allies to a mutual demise. Boro's most abundant soldiers were wolf tribe, always have been since the Empire era. As long as he secured Wolf State, he essentially controlled half of Boronian soldiers' lifelines. Locating a specific soldier’s home was unfathomable for Absec; he couldn't even grasp which unit belonged to whom. Yet for Zaid, it was a simple task. His men recently devised new methods, even eliminating the need for bribery with eggs. As Zaid meticulously reevaluated his plans for any oversight, he suddenly heard footsteps outside. Sava entered with a telegram in hand, but Zaid's unwavering stare made him chuckle sheepishly. "Sir, you're still awake." Zaid replied, emotionless. "What are you doing at this hour?" Sava shrugged helplessly, scratching his head with his right hand, responding bashfully. "We just received a telegram; there's news from Mammoth City. I saw your light and came to report… Did I do something wrong?" Indeed, there was nothing wrong. Especially with that sheepish expression. Zaid relaxed his expression slightly, taking the telegram from Sava, reading with half surprise and half delight. "They actually succeeded…" Unable to believe the result, Zaid murmured to himself, "You've done well in this task! I am very pleased!" Sava laughed heartily and said, "I knew it; Lasi's an orphan, and his strike team too, are all orphans. Their bond isn't just superior and subordinate, likely akin to family ties, making their guard low against each other." He hastened to add, "Of course, they're fake families, fundamentally different from us; we are truly family." Zaid put away his smile, glancing deeply at the child he'd picked up for free, nodding, both approving and testing. "You've shown great insight; I haven't taught you in vain... So, has Gopal entered the city yet? Is he lingering in Wolf State? That's his hometown; we need to keep a close eye on what he's planning," Zaid said, exhaling a puff of smoke as he spoke. Sava chuckled, "He’s nearly there. He's quite docile, like a dog, not daring to pause even for a second along the way! Besides, Picli, who guards Tengdu, is already on our side, and Shaluk has helped us a great deal by flipping the other grand council members." Surprisingly, Tengdu had the lowest variables of all their moves. Isheer might defect, leading the Northern Field Army across the river; their ace mole, Udi, could have died in vain while Lasi survived. These moves carried far more uncertainties but yielded surprisingly good outcomes. It was clear that the Boron people stood with them from their hearts; otherwise, they couldn’t have delivered such a critical blow. Shaluk, however, couldn’t see this simple truth, dreaming of "replacing" others, foolishly believing that the 800,000-strong army under Grove and the 100,000 elite of the Grey Wolf Army were his own. Soon these traitors would realize what clowns they had become, most fittingly so as an outcome. As Sava reveled in the moment, he noticed Zaid's unwavering gaze fixated on him. "Sava." The unusual tone made Sava quickly dim the joy and looked at him cautiously. "What is it, sir?" Zaid approached the window, flicking ash from his Rick-5 cigarette into the ashtray. "We must learn from Lasi's lesson. People whose backgrounds we aren’t familiar with must not be used, and if used, should never be relied upon for great tasks, especially those closest to us. Remember, we are the real family here." "Rest assured, sir, I won’t make the same mistake as Lasi. Not only must we understand their limits, but keep leverage over them... Of course, these things are in your hands; you can rest a millionfold assured." Sava wore a hearty smile, but cold sweat trickled down his back. Had he made himself too conspicuous? But, godfather… We haven’t won yet—we still have to take down the troublesome Gopal and cut off Shaluk, a remnant noble from the previous regime. Although Gopal might think Grove will act first, Zaid actually wanted to use him; after all, he was the only blade stained with Villantean blood. However, Sava now pondered that if he wasn't careful, he, the crown prince, might have to leave the scene even before Gopal. Perhaps a harmless self-deprecation was in order once all was done… Looking at his obedient adopted son, Zaid's brow relaxed only slightly, yet tensed once more. This adopted child came too conveniently. He had meant to train someone like Chu Guang did with Lu Bei, picking up a foster son to study from; a fast and precise knife. But once used, it was clear this was not a child of his own flesh and blood—it always belonged to another's body. Nonetheless, having remained by his side, even a pet dog had feelings grow over time… Surely… there wouldn’t be any problems, right? That adoring gaze sometimes even gave him the chills, suspecting there was more to this man's inclinations… If all this were merely an act, then his depth would be unfathomably deep. Yet, he didn’t know that any kid, placed under such constant scrutiny, would develop such profound cunning. Besides, this "clever telepath" was chosen by him; the first lesson learned was skill, the second could be mastery. Everyone had their own well they fell into, able only to trap themselves. In this thunderous, rainy night, the blinding incandescent light resembled a precarious drifting boat, its destination unknown amidst the storming seas. Perhaps it was time to consult a few shamans for clarity. But one thing was certain. The cunning devised, while the subservient trembled. Both remained oblivious to the fact their love-hate relationship would continue far into the future. But that would be another tale of blood and storm… … In the pleasant weather of New Wesport, Ross finally felt solid ground beneath his feet after three days at sea. This was, overall, a thriving port. Sparse green trees dotted the sandy expanses, and the dusty fringes of construction sites revealed the outlines of new buildings. Salen planned to create a new Wesport on the southwestern edge of Luoxia Province, echoing the southeastern Silvermoon Bay, designating it as a special district of the Eastern Empire. Though lacking in the alluvial plains, fertile rivers, and unique terrain of Silvermoon Bay, it boasted an advantage the other did not—the immigrant Valantians from the Southern Legion. People are the greatest asset. Bystreet Town had demonstrated this, thriving despite reliance on basic freshwater imports from the "Embankment" system of the Honey Badger Kingdom. And the Falcon Kingdom's survivors would, in time, become a driving force for change at home, taking on responsibilities initially unfulfilled by the League-established Industry Representative Bureau in the Falcon Kingdom. The future lay ahead, yet both Valantians and Borons continued their lives similarly… At the entry checkpoint, Ross complied with Eastern Empire soldiers' instructions, approaching a registration booth. The officer manning the booth thumbed through the papers and quickly found Ross's name. Realizing he was addressing a Major of Thousand, he promptly retrieved a letter from his drawer, stood rigid, saluting as he handed the letter to Ross. "It's an honor to meet you, Major Ross! Please take this letter to report at the port authority shown on the map. They'll document your rank and service record, and arrange for your ‘monitored residency’ job… Rest assured, while monitored, no one will tail you constantly, but we ask that you remain in the port area until the time concludes." "We've also prepared a villa for you; the port authority staff will escort you there later. You can stay there during your residency, even bring your family to join you!" Returning the salute, Ross accepted the letter, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you, I'll consider it." "Not at all! Being stranded with such a big military group is tough luck," the soldier quipped with a wink, "Anyway, congratulations on returning home rather than falling into Boro hands." Ross chuckled, replying, "They're… honestly not as barbaric as you say. They treated me fairly well on the journey back." The soldier gave Ross a surprised glance, then laughed knowingly, "Really? Ah… well, you must’ve traveled during the day, not at night." Ross inquired, "Is there a difference?" The soldier shrugged, smiling, "Heard there's gunfire every night, maybe not during the day? Check with others, I might just be spreading rumors. Good luck anyway." Ross didn’t press further. Those matters were no longer his concern. Following the address on the letter, Ross efficiently completed his onboarding at the port authority, securing keys to a villa. His job was simple: lecture Eastern Empire reserve officers. As General McLaren put it, only those who have battled the League truly know how to fight them. They had to study how the League fought, mobilized locally, and backed survivor factions, among other tasks… Even Norde City established its own sociological institute, focusing on the League and topics related to the vault dwellers, facilitating exchanges with Dawn City’s research institute. The League welcomed this, seemingly undisturbed by the prospect of counteractions. Or perhaps, it was all part of the Overseer's strategy. Slowly, the League was integrating the Eastern Empire into rules familiar to them, nudging old military factions towards change via gentle methods… and this might likely have been in progress from much earlier on. Intense hot wars may become a thing of the past, with war games perhaps becoming the new norm. After all, fighting with words means no casualties. Ross couldn’t help but reflect that the world seemed to have truly changed, and he needed to keep pace with the times... After putting away his belongings at home, he wandered the streets, using his advanced salary to buy some food meant for people, and stumbled upon a newsstand. Life felt too leisurely. His entire being seemed to relax instantly, even contemplating buying a beer to drink by the beach until sunset. Just days ago, hiding in a cave and eating bugs felt like a distant memory—almost as if it never happened. What was it Tyre truly wanted? His gaze grew distant, and as a commander of a thousand, he suddenly found himself unable to comprehend it. Yet he had to ponder this question, for as a "research subject" of the Eastern Empire, he might have to explain it to students in class soon enough... "You all even have the 'Survivor's Daily' here?" Seeing the major standing before the newsstand, the middle-aged man selling newspapers squinted and smiled. "Indeed. The port just opened up, and the newspapers followed suit… But let me tell you in secret, this New Wesport 'Survivor's Daily' is different from Dawn City’s. Your emperor pre-registered it." Ross couldn’t help but smile wryly at this, wondering whether to praise Salen for being sly or acknowledge it as typical of him. Placing a dinar on the stand, he picked up a newspaper and scanned its pages, but was immediately stunned by the headline that filled the front page. [Mammoth City Mutiny! Lasi Assassinated! Was the Assassin the Strike Team, Moon Tribe Resistance Elders, or the Family Association?!] Lasi… dead? Ross stood there, bewildered, unable to believe that the same terror who so haunted Oleite’s command had perished just like that. He had never faced Lasi, only sparred with Isher, yet he couldn’t accept this outcome. Why? His mind couldn’t grasp it; everything felt cloudy until he subconsciously threw more dinars to the stand, flipping through the newspaper. [Night of the Bayonet! Multiple Moon Tribe Resistance Elders Captured! Strike Team Goes on Killing Spree!] [Terror Strikes! Journalist Massacre! 'Home and Country Gazette,' 'Heroic Words Gazette,' 'Justice’s Voice Gazette,' and Others Entirely Wiped Out by Pu-9 Submachine Gun?!] [Wolfish Ambition No Longer Hidden?! Strike Team Commander Shava Declares Himself the New Leader of Mammoth Nation and Pledges to Continue the Purge!] [Order 1500! Shava Personally Deploys! Executes 1500 Family Association Members Allegedly Involved in Former Leader’s Assassination Plot, All Executed in Court!] [Zaid Hosts Memorial for Fallen Family, Orders Yokale to Lead Northern Field Army to Yang Province Front, Declaring Strike Team Must be Held Accountable for Family’s Deaths.] The headlines were chaotic and unfocused, more like something from Goblin Gazette than a Survivor's Daily copycat—perhaps this disarray was the future of news. Yet even if New Wesport had little news of its own, mocking its neighbors seemed excessive. Despite the scattered headlines, each blood-soaked word left even Ross, fresh from the frontlines, short of breath. Clearly, he wasn’t alone in his thoughts—nearby, two Eastern Empire soldiers shared the sentiment. "1500… Tsk, sounds like they made the list before assigning numbers." "Isn't that obvious?" "1500 people… enough for a regiment. How could Boron Province still have so many people?" "Seems our southern brothers’ loss isn’t unjust—they were truly outnumbered." "But what a shame for Lasi, not dying by Oleite Major's hand, but his own comrades." "Not just Lasi, wasn’t it the same for Isher?" "Wait, are you referring to the Jungle Rat? Is he dead too?!" "Died a few days ago… Damn, a million dinars! What a waste." "…Killing their own heroes, there’s no saving these folks." Isher… Hearing the name, Ross held his breath, trembling fingers flipping pages to find the mentioned article— [Shock! 'Jungle Rat' Felled by Boron People! Tyre Saves Money on Unpayable Bounty!] [Yokale Commended for Suppressing Rebellion! Promoted Commander of Northern Field Army!] Standing there for what felt like an eternity, Ross finally let out a long sigh. "...It would’ve been better if he had died by my hand." To Be Continued.